Why Would I Write

  • Old Homes, Old Faces

    It’s been a while since I’ve had a wacky dream, but that changed last night.

    I was in my room in my old house (I seem to have a lot dreams which take place in homes I used to stay in – never in my current home), when I heard a familiar voice outside my door. I opened the door and to my surprise, it was my dad. For some reason he had decided to come back to Malaysia.

    But the dad in my dream was very different. His face was how I remembered it to be, albeit a lot older, and that was the only part of him I recognized. He had grey crew cut hair (never seen him have that hair style in my life), and his was big and beefy. Like he had been spending the past 5 years in Texas lifting cows and drinking nothing but protein shakes. But that didn’t faze me.

    He was holding my mom and she was holding him back like they were never separated. That didn’t faze me.

    Instead, the first thing that came out of my mouth was, “how come you’re back in the country?”
    I remember he was smiling as he replied, but I don’t remember what he said – or anything after that (such is the fleeting nature of dreams, someone NEEDS to come up with a dream recorder dammit).

    Anyway, I woke up feeling really weird. I know dreams don’t mean anything, but I thought it was interesting enough to share.

  • ’cause they’re building houses and lights in Tokyo

    California Wives – if somebody told me back in the early 2000s that I would be a fan of ‘indie rock’, I would have just laughed in their faces and said, “Yeah, right.” Well, fast forward to early 2013 (or rewind back from the present date), Jason linked me a song to check out. It was a song called ‘Purple’ from a band called California Wives and from the opening guitar strums, I was hooked. I couldn’t explain the feeling that washed over me. All I knew was I enjoyed it.
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  • Down with the sickness

    Down with the sickness

    It’s been awhile since I last fell sick, and even longer since I blogged about it. I guess it’s kinda pointless to write about being sick anyway. There’s not much to say. I’m on meds, not really in the mood to write, but fuck it. Just write anyway because I haven’t hit 5 posts this week.

    If there’s one thing that sucks about being sick, it’s probably having to run to the toilet every 15 minutes or so because you can’t contain the shit (heh) inside. Anyway, I’m on drugs for my fever, cough, flu and sore throat. On a side note, why isn’t flu spelled as ‘flue’? I seem to automatically type flue on the keyboard for no reason.
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